


before the eyes of storytellers

by ygrittebardots



Series: the gathering fire [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Canon, Cultural Differences, Gen, Languages, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:42:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3439139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ygrittebardots/pseuds/ygrittebardots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tatooine has a slightly tangled relationship when it comes to its languages, Padmé learns quite by accident. </p><p>(Linguistics meta masquerading as fic.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	before the eyes of storytellers

“And this one?” Padmé presses, running her finger down the worn spine of one of the older plays in Kitster’s collection.

“You have a good eye.  _Mirada and the Starpeople_  - first in the M’letha canon. The grandfather of our protest theatre,” Kitster clarifies at her small frown of confusion, handing over a steaming mug. “There were two Tatooines, you know. Still is, to a point. Kendai and alutha - free and slave. M’letha was the first to really set alutha culture to words, theatricalise it, put it in front of people. Make the kendai squirm a little.”

He grins, but Padmé’s frown deepens ever so slightly. “But it’s in Basic.”

“Yes. That’s how he wrote it.”

“Doesn’t that negate the point?”

“How could it?”

“If you’re putting this up in front of… kendai, why pander to them? Why write it in their language? I mean, is this at least performed in any of the local dialects ever? I know Anakin speaks Tal, and you and Melee speak… oh, I’m going to butcher this… Luza?”

“Lhosa.”

“Lhosa,” she repeats after him, still mangling it somewhat. “I’d assume that would lend more power to the narrative.”

“But people don’t understand Lhosa, Jedi Naberrie. Not the kendai, anyway, unless they live deep in that community. Which is too rare to merit an entire translation.”

“Well, Huttese, then,” she insists.

Kitster taps his finger thoughtfully on the wooden table several times before responding.

“The mistake you’re making, I think,” he says, not unkindly, “is in thinking we have something against the kendai, against Basic. We don’t. Basic is a wonderful thing. Yes, we have our tribal identities, our Lhosa and our Tal and our Be’shrat, but I don’t speak Tal and Anakin doesn’t speak Lhosa. Basic is where we meet. Not at Huttese. Never that. We all know it and speak it, but it was forced on us. It’s a language of oppression, a language that strips us of identity.  _That_  is something to be resisted. But for alutha, and for kendai - and you, Jedi Naberrie, you too are kendai, and that’s no bad thing - Basic is where we can understand each other. What’s the point of telling a story if no one knows what you’re saying? The trick is training the kendai to listen to our shared language with alutha ears.”

"And how do you do that?"

Kitster smiles, wide and white.

"By being fearless. By speaking our truth."


End file.
